Dead Fox
by ThePrinceOfShapeir
Summary: My first fan fic with all my own characters for metal gear! It's really really good, so just read it and review it, but know that it's only part one.


Dead Fox  
  
The heat was unbearable. The heat.always the heat.it got to him like nothing else. Funny. That used to be the thing he liked most about this place. "*Fox.*" The radio voice cracked again: "*Fox.respond.*" He lay slumped against the wall, not ready to pick up the transceiver connected to his belt.  
The heat. "*God damn it Fox, don't pull this shit on me now!*" His long blonde hair dripped with sweat and saturated his green field uniform.  
Damn the heat. "*You know, you're ass isn't the only one that's going to fry for this!*" His Beretta M92 lie in his right hand, with only four bullets in the clip. His rolled up sleeves started to fall back down.  
"I really used to love the heat." "*Fox? Thank God. Where are you now? We can't pick you up on the soliton!" He lifted his blue eyes to the sky and stared into the cloudless sky.  
An endless blue. "*Fox? Fox? FOX!!*" Eric Dering's voice was steadily growing on his nerves. "*Look man, you must be tired. Just finish the mission and we can have a few brews when you get back.*" Eric was a poor drinking partner. Always got drunk too early and relied on Fox to pay the bill and get him home. "No thanks. I'll drink for you now though." "*What!?*"  
Fox unscrewed the cap off his silver canteen, and drank deeply from the well known as wild turkey. "*Fox! Is that whiskey or some other booze? You know you can get in a shitload of trouble for that, don't you?*"  
Fox screwed the cap back on and put it his canteen back on his belt while picking up the transceiver in his other hand. "All right, I'm ready to go now." "*Thank God. Now, make sure you infiltrate from the right entrance of the compound, making sure not to use any other mode of entry, the security is just too damn tight. Fucking Somalia. Bastards know how to keep you from infiltrating all the key points of entry. The right side closest to the cliff you just scaled has only two guards on duty and no cameras and shit like that. But be quick, they have a patrolling guard with a dog that should make a full round of the compound in about seven minutes. Watch for him to pass, then try to infiltrate.*"  
"What does the interior of the compound look like to you?" "*Our satellite observation can't penetrate the compound, but it would make sense to me if it resembled a barracks or something." "The Somalians have barracks?" "*Negative. They seized it from a camp of Ukrainian mercenaries.*" "Oh." "*Regardless of which, you won't find any Ukrainians here. The guards all are heavily armed, and won't think twice to make some Fox Hound stew.*"  
Fox stood and crept along the wall till he was at the end where the wall connected to the wall that held the door which he sought for entry. He peeked around and saw the two guards, roughly clothed, clutching PA-93s, probably stolen from the Ukrainians as well. "What's my body count for this mission?" Fox heard Eric's voice tighten. "*Unrestricted.*" "And this order comes from the top?" Eric's voice tightened to the point of choking. "*The very top.*" Fox smiled. Eric was a well known racist. "*Just get the damn mission done. I'm tired and ready for a fuck and a suck.*" "What's my time limit?" "*You've got till sundown, after that, the choppers are heading home, and you will have to find some other way to get home. I suggest finishing before sundown and getting on that bird.*" "Not a problem. This just makes it more interesting." "*If you need to reach me, my frequency is 145.10, don't be afraid to ask for help, even though you are Fox.*" "I'll be like a fifteen year old on porn." "*Ah, the good old days. Stay low.*"  
Fox snuck up behind the guard to the right and edged his way across the wall behind him, praying that the guard would not turn around. All of a sudden, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps and heavy panting.  
Shit, the dog guard! He jumped behind a crate and crouched behind it. The guard with the dog approached the first guard and started a conversation. The dog's ears pricked and it started tugging at its leash, pointing its nose to the crate behind which Fox was hiding. Fox sensed the dog's agitation and tightened his grip on his M9.  
The guard noticed the dog as well. "What is wrong?" he asked. The dog whimpered and pulled toward the crate. The guard gave him enough slack to let him get closer to the crate. Fox prepared to jump out and get the first shot out. All of a sudden, he heard a smack and then a whimper. "No, bad dog. Bad dog!" the guard exclaimed. Fox heard the sound of the guard and the dog leaving and returning to their route. Fox was genuinely confused. He backed off the crate and looked at it. Cooking supplies.  
Ah, the guard must have thought the dog smelled food in the crate. Fox thanked anyone who was listening and crept up to the door. Opening it, he was subject to a deep and encroaching darkness. He shut the door and crept up to a book case covered in a green tarp. He guessed there were anything but books under the tarp. Peeking around the bookcase he saw that the compound did resemble a barracks, with tables and chairs for the soldiers. Fox counted four soldiers patrolling the interior and two soldiers sitting at one of the tables eating some form of meal. There was a set of metal stairs that led to an upper level that had two doors on the level. There were also two doors on the level he was on, with another door that led to the kitchen. Fox returned behind the bookcase and picked up his transceiver.  
"This is Red Fox, respond Eric." "*This is Eric, transmission received.*" "I'm inside the compound, can't tell which door I should take to my goal." "*According to the relay message we got from our inside resource, the general's room is on the second floor, the second door on the right.*" "Excellent, proceeding with mission." "*Wait, Fox.*" "Huh?" "*There's something I need to tell you.*" "." Fox was silent. "*This mission.isn't your average assassination.*" "What?" "*There's a.certain way it has to be done.I wanted to wait to tell you.*" "What is this 'certain way'?" "*Well, it wouldn't accomplish much to just have the general shot in the head or something, we have to make it look like a Cerbarian did it.*" The Cerbarians were a radical group of mercenaries who had no country, but they had been employed by the Somalians to help them in their civil war. "So this is to make it look like the Cerbarians turned on the Somalians?" "*Exactly*" "And how exactly, would a Cerbarian assassinate someone?" "That's the tricky part. You see, Cerbarians assassinate with a sort of ritual, they use a special spear that they make from redwood.*" "A redwood spear?" "*And they always leave the spear behind.*" "I'm not exactly equipped with a redwood spear." "*That's okay. Our inside informant left one for you. You can find it in the locker room on the first floor.*" "Which door is the locker room?" "*The first door to the left of the entry to the compound you just entered.*" "What's the locker number?" "*Eighteen.*" "And how do I open the locker?" "*It should already be open.*" "That's rather risky. What if someone already found it?" "*Then we're fucked.*" "Ah." "*One more thing. When a Cerbarian assassinates someone, it's normally very.messy.*" "How pleasant. So I have to butcher the poor guy?" "*No, not really. You just have to rip him up a little bit.*" "Great. Sounds like a party." Eric laughed. "What's so funny?" "*Only you would say that, Fox.*" Fox winced. "Well, killing has never been a problem for me." "*Whatever. I'll pay for the drinks when you get home.*" "Sounds good. Fox out."  
Fox reattached the transceiver to his belt and thought about how he should do this. There's no way I could get away with firing in here. Every guard and his dad would come looking.  
Fox holstered his M9 and pulled out his combat knife. If I run into any trouble, I can more than compensate with this.  
Fox crept away from the bookcase and silently walked across the wall, staying in the shadows. A guard walked straight past him and into the room which he presume held his goal. He silently followed the guard in and closed the door behind him. The locker room was set up in a high school fashion, with a block of lockers in the middle of the room that Fox used for cover.  
The guard passed across the block of lockers and Fox followed him. Sneaking up behind him, Fox grabbed his head with his left arm held his knife up to the guard's neck.  
"Don't make this any harder than it has to be." With that he slit the guard's throat. All the guard could manage to get out was a slight grunt of pain and fell over, leaving blood all over the floor.  
No point in hiding the body. The blood would be a dead giveaway that I was here. Fox looked around the room for locker eighteen. He found it and opened it. Like Eric said, the spear was in there. It was about four feet long and had a razor sharp arrow, painted black. There were two red feathers tied right below the arrow.  
Fox picked up his transceiver. "Red Fox calling, I got my little toy." "*This is Eric, good job Fox. Now for the hard part.*" "You're not kidding me." "*Just make sure you don't alert anyone. If you do, the general will get suspicious and evacuate.*" "So if I get found, it's 'game over' for me." "*Exactly.*" "Well, better not keep the general waiting." "*Like they say, death comes knocking.*" "Too true. Fox out."  
Fox sheathed his knife and wielded the spear out of the room. He crept back along the wall to the door he came in, and crept along the opposite wall to the stair case. He had a clear shot at it, but the only problem was a guard standing just opposite of the staircase. He could try to climb the stairs, but the metal didn't look to promising to be silent.  
He fished around inside his uniform for something to use in this situation. M9, combat knife, sheath, transceiver, ration.  
Ration! Of course! Fox picked the ration out of his belt and threw it in the direction of the kitchen. It landed with a loud crash on the counter next to the pots and pans. "Huh? What the hell was that?" The guard voiced. One of the guards at the table turned around. "I don't know, go check it out." "Why do not you check it?" "Because I am eating the lunch!" The guard grumbled and headed for the kitchen while the other guard returned to his meal. Fox crept up the stairs and headed for the second door on his right. He flattened himself against the wall and moved the spear to his left hand. He grabbed the doorknob and tightened it. He took in a deep breath and swung the door open while jumping inside simultaneously.  
Nothing. Not a person in the whole room. Fox looked around, discouraged. There was a desk, a chair, a locker, a closet and a bed. No sign of a general anywhere. Fox was about to pick up the transceiver when he heard approaching footsteps. "Well, he wouldn't have just a leaved, look for him again!" A deep voice said. "Yes sir." Another voice said. "I shall be in my room, I want a no interference." "Yes sir." Fox quickly looked for some place to hide. He selected the locker and shut himself inside. The seconds ticked away as the approaching footsteps got closer and closer. He got closer and closer to the door. Fox tightened his grip on the spear. The door swung open, and through it walked a short Somalian with a sour expression. He closed the door and locked it. Through the grates, Fox could see a small handgun on his belt and no other apparent form of weaponry. He sat himself in the chair and closed his eyes. Quickly he opened them and pulled out a small book from his desk. Crime and Punishment.  
Fox shook his head and prepared for the job he was about to do. He swung open the locker and pointed the spear in the general's face. "Death comes a knocking." The general's jaw dropped. Fox had moved too quickly for him to even drop his book. "Wha-wha-what do you want?" "Nothing you can give me." Fox swiped the spear across his face, causing the general to fall out of his chair. "Aaaaahhhgh! You fucking American bastard!" "Who said I was American?" Fox swiped across his stomach, tearing his shirt and spilling blood everywhere. "Ohhhh, god please no!" The general tried to grab his gun, but Fox stabbed his hand, pinning it to the floor. "You Somalians are so damn easy to drop in on, but let's see how you bleed." Fox pulled the spear out and sliced across his chest and stabbed his right shoulder. "AAAAAGHHH! Please! Please don't kill me! Oh god no, please! I give you anything!" The general got on his knees in a stance of pleading. "Please, I have the money, I will a give you ANYTHING!" Fox looked as if he were considering it for a moment. A glimmer of hope shined in the general's eyes. "Hmmmm. No." Fox said. With that he shoved the spear through the general's neck. Fox sighed and lifted his head up. Killing was no problem. It was after the killing that he hated so much. His transceiver rang. "*Fox, this is Eric. Respond.*" Fox picked it up. "Fox here." "*I heard everything.*" "A good show?" "*Priceless. Now that you got the dirty work done, you should get out to the bird. Just take the rout you used to get there and get on the hill. The bird will be there.*" "Right. Fox out."  
He put the transceiver up. He surveyed himself. Almost no blood had gotten on him. Funny. He pulled out his M9 and left the room. Back in the main room, he approached a window that overlooked the back of the compound. He opened it and swung out on the sill. After that it was only a twelve foot drop to the sand. Recovering from the fall, he considered his options for escape.  
He had scaled a steep cliff face from the back of the compound, but now he could simply take the road down to the beach and up to the rendezvous point. The sun was setting and the whole sky was bathed in orange.  
The heat. Fox shook his head. Taking the road would be impossible in this light. But if he had a ride.  
He looked around. There were two jeeps parked on the right side of the compound. He had to get to the rendezvous point now. He drew his M9 again and ran for the jeep. Jumping in, he was glad to see the keys in the ignition. Turning them, the jeep rumbled and started. A guard rounded the corner of the compound having heard the noise.  
"Hey yo." Fox shot him in the general area of his heart and stepped on the gas. He drove it down the road to the hill next to the cliff he had climbed up. He heard shouts and yells behind him from the guards.  
Too late guys. He turned sharply as he reached the beach and drove down to where it met the hill he had to get to the top of. As he reached near the top, he heard the sound of another vehicle. He turned around and there was the other jeep with four guards in it, about half a mile away down the hill. Fox stepped on it and got to the top. He stopped the jeep and stood up. The chopper couldn't be seen anywhere.  
Damn it! Reliable marines my ass! He turned around to see the other jeep gaining on him. He hopped out of the jeep and put it in neutral. The jeep rolled back down the hill towards the other one. The jeep full of guards tried to steer out of the way of the oncoming jeep, but they only succeeded in tipping theirs over. They quickly piled out of it before the other jeep collided with it. They resumed their pursuit on foot.  
Fox looked around the sky again, suddenly he heard the sound of helicopter rotors approaching somewhere to the south. Turning around, he saw the bird coming in. It would take it at least three minutes to get to him.  
He pulled out his M9. No reason to die this late in the game. He had no cover to use, so he aimed and tightened the trigger. Three shots, four guards. Not very good odds. They were steadily gaining up the hill, and Fox had no choice but to trust his aim. Taking a shot, he took out one of the guards in the head. Two shots left. He aimed again, taking his time to aim. Another one down. Last shot. One of the two last guards ducked down and aimed his smg. Fox quickly selected him for his last target. The guard took it in the stomach. He fell over with pain and would soon die.  
The last one went into a dead sprint for Fox. Fox looked up. The chopper was about to descend, but the guard would be there first. Thinking fast, he pulled out his combat knife from his boot and cocked it to throw. As he released it, the guard appeared over the hill and let loose one shot from his PA-93. The bullet took Fox in the right arm and caused his knife to swerve to the right a little and hit the guard in the right eye.  
Well, that's all over with. Damn this heat. Fox placed his left hand on his arm. Bullet went straight through. Nothing to worry about. He walked down to the guard and pulled his knife out. "wh...who.who are you?" Fox looked down in surprise at the guard who should have been dead. ".Red Fox." "Killed.by a.a fox." The guard's head rolled over and he ceased to say anything more. Fox suddenly became aware of the chopper above him. He signaled to the pilot. They dropped a rope out of the doors and Fox ascended it. As the chopper took off for home, the marine physician attending his wound asked: "So you.wanna talk about it?" Fox looked at him with eyes that spoke paragraphs. "No." "Okeeday. No problem." Fox sighed and looked out the doors at the dark blue sea they were flying over. There were some people who would want to hear about it when he got home. No doubt.  
"The heat." Fox said. "Huh?" The physician asked.  
"I.used to love it." "o.kay?" Fox smiled and closed his eyes. He could deal with the heat. He had for so long.  
  
To be continued. 


End file.
